Leaving The Past Buried
by happyday girl
Summary: Set in season 1- Sam and Dean get a call after a group of students are found murdered by a spirit-at Stanford. When they get there, the brothers begin to realise that past choices and actions always come back to haunt you. Hurt!Sam Heroic!Dean. Please R&R
1. Chapter 1

**Hello...I'm back! I had this idea for a while, so I decided to write it down and see if you guys like it! This is the start of another multi-chaptered fic, set in early season 1!**

**Enjoy!**

Dean hissed as the needle pierced his skin, the thin thread scratching under his skin as the cold metal started its work. The hunter looked up reproachfully at the person inflicting this pain; Sam smiled nervously back, his blood stained and shaking hands moving the needle nonetheless expertly on his brother's shoulder.

'Told you...we should have let that heist alone...' Dean groaned, grimacing as Sam splashed some alcohol over the wound, weeping blood trickling from this shoulder.

'Well, I'm not the one with a new orifice in his body.' Sam chuckled, before leaning forward to bite off the excess stitching.

'Yeah...hey, what's an orifice?' Dean asked, before winking at his little brother and standing up, gently wiping away some more blood.

Sam shook his head and wiped his hands on his jeans, before he zipped up the duffel and walked over to his laptop, where he had already brought up information on their next hunt.

Dean flopped onto the bed with a groan, looking over at a bottle of whiskey that he had left by his shoes.

'Uh huh-you can't have any alcohol with the painkillers I gave you-you wanna end up in the emergency room?' Sam asked, before rolling his eyes as Dean picked up the bottle, undid it and gulped most of it down.

'Idiot.'

'Bitch.'

'Jerk.'

Sam smiled at his screen as he heard Dean relax into the bed. They had definitely not wanted this so near to Christmas. A hurt Dean made for a majorly pissed Dean-what a fun festive period he was in for.

He yawned as he heard Dean begin to snore; that noise always made him feel drowsy, he had no idea why.

He scrolled through newspaper articles and eyewitness reports for hours, searching for any more local haunts or goings on that could be a hunt. Apart from the one he had first found, nothing else seemed to be jumping out at him.

He sighed and turned off his laptop. A suspected spirit in Idaho. This was an easy, cut and paste hunt, shouldn't take more than a few days, then they could have some time off. Perfect.

As soon as he stood up though, Dean's phone rang. The young Winchester's heart sank. Dean's phone ringing always meant one thing-another hunt. A bigger one, no doubt.

He crossed the motel room and prodded his brother awake. Dean groaned and accepted the phone as he sat up, rubbing his face, the stubble scratching his palm.

Sam knew something was up by the way Dean's face changed. It was a knack they had with each other. As soon as Dean answered the phone and listened for a few seconds, his face started to fall-that meant a big hunt.

Then his face lit up slightly- a hunt that he liked the sound of. Then a look that Sam couldn't quite fathom-it was mainly the way Dean ducked his shoulders ever so slightly, and his eyes shifted to Sam more and more.

Sam frowned and sat on his own bed, patiently waiting for Dean to sign off. Once he did, he looked questioningly at his older brother. 'So what was that all about?' he asked.

'Well, that was Bobby, guy says he has another hunt for us-a few kids...students...are going missing and turning up dead in the campus, and he wants us to go take a look.' Dean said, avoiding Sam's gaze as he took another swig of Whisky.

'Cool, sounds interesting.' Sam nodded, looking sideways at his brother.

'Yeah...' Dean said, coughing slightly as the alcohol burned his throat.

'Dean, what's the matter? You sounded all weird on the phone to Bobby-what's up?'

'Sammy-'

'Come on dude, what's happened?' Sam asked, standing up and walking to stand next to his brother.

'It's not _what_ the case is-it's _where_ the case is.' Dean said, now looking Sam full in the face.

'Why?' Sam said, now chuckling at how his brother was acting. 'Where is it?'

Dean sighed and sat down on Sam's vacated chair. 'It's in Stanford University Sammy.' He said quietly.

Sam blinked, opening and closing his mouth like a fish. He walked back to his bed and sat down heavily. Visions of Jess and the campus flashed through his mind...It had only been three months.

'Sam, we don't have to take this one.' Dean's voice sounded like it was coming from far away.

He shook his head slightly and turned to look at Dean. He jumped when he saw his brother was standing right in front of him, smiling comfortingly at him.

Dean put a hand on his shoulder. 'I said we don't have to take this case, I can call someone else.'

'Is there anyone else to take it?' Sam said slowly, already knowing the answer. Bobby wouldn't have called Dean if there was someone else for him to call.

'...No' Dean answered truthfully.

Sam sighed and ran a hand down his face, before giving his brother a small smile.

'Then I guess we have to do this, don't we?'

Dean smiled and shrugged, kneeling on his haunches and putting his hands on Sam's knees. 'We'll take it slow, okay? At your pace.' He promised, standing up with a groan. He massaged his shoulder as he walked back to his bed.

'You sure you want to do this?' he asked as he lay down, peering up at Sam.

'Yeah, I can do this-just...just bear with me, okay?' Sam replied quietly.

'You go it bro.' Dean said, before settling back and closing his eyes.

Sam gave his brother a small smile before getting into his own bed, and as he pulled the covers over his face a dark feeling spread from his stomach to his chest. He didn't know whether he could do this, but- and he felt a little childish admitting it- as long as he had Dean, he knew he could do anything.

Smiling at the cheesy thought, and with a soundtrack of deep Dean-snores, he settled back into his pillow, not quite knowing what to expect from the coming days...

**Oh dear, what's going to happen once they get to Stanford? Find out in the next chapter!**

**I really hope you enjoyed this chapter!**

**Please review!**

**Xxx **


	2. Chapter 2

**Hello!**

**I want to thank everyone for the great response I've had to this story-I am so happy you all like it! You guys give such great feedback and support, and you're what keeps me writing!**

**After this chapter the actual story starts, with the hunt and everything, but I had to have this here, when you read it you'll know why ^^**

**Enjoy...**

A day and a night on the road later, and they had reached Palo Alto. Sam nervously eyed the streets as the residents started making their way to work and College in the early morning sunshine.

He didn't spot anyone that he recognised, but he found himself involuntary ducking down in his seat, near to the point where he was almost laying down.

Dean turned and smiled encouragingly at his little brother, patting his knee as Sam cleared his throat and sat up a little straighter. His heart plummeted a few inches-maybe this wasn't such a good idea?

He gripped the steering wheel that little bit harder as the signs pointing the way to Stanford started to appear. He shot Sam another look as he moved the car through the streets, dodging students who seemed to be late for class.

He didn't like what he saw; Sam was pale, a thin sheen of sweat glazing his face. Dean looked down-Sam was twisting his hands in his lap, something he hadn't done in years.

'You okay?' he asked, clearing his throat as he found a car park a little way away from the school.

Sam cleared his own throat, before smiling at his brother as he rubbed his eyes. 'I'm...I'm good-just tired, ya know?'

'After spending all this time on the road asleep?' Dean asked incredulously. He chuckled as Sam poked out his tongue, and he turned off the ignition before getting out of the Impala.

Sam blew air out of his cheeks and turned to the door handle, one sweaty palm gripped it in a tight hold. He could do this-it was about time...wasn't it? He didn't expect to be back so soon, but, hell-what was the point of staying away?

He jumped as Dean rapped on the door with his knuckles. Dean laughed as Sam gave him a one fingered salute, before opening the door for him and stepping aside.

'This is a cool looking place Sammy.' He said, nodding at their surroundings.

'Yeah, nice and clean...' Sam muttered, the younger man looking around the crowded streets once more.

'No, I meant for the girls! Girls Sammy!' Dean said, patting Sam's back as he locked the door.

'I had one, didn't I? Or did you forget?' Sam snapped, before his face fell. 'Dean I'm-'

'No, its okay Sammy, my fault.' Dean reassured him, putting a warm hand on his shoulder.

They walked down the street, Dean looking up and down the roads. 'We'd probably have to do this one without the authorities knowing...' he mused, looking at his watch.

'Why?' Sam asked, his eyes still on the throngs of students.

'Well, it's not like you can go up to the head or whoever and say your names Jack Browne from the local Sheriff's office, can you? Don't you think they'd be a tad suspicious?' he asked, chuckling as Sam shrugged.

'Maybe...' he said, before grinning. 'Okay then, Mr Plan-where do we start?'

Dean rubbed his hands together and chuckled. This was the part he liked best-the planning.

'Right, we start with the papers, reports, eyewitnesses, got me? We go to the local haunts of these kids.' He said, looking at Sam for confirmation.

Sam nodded, but avoided his gaze. 'You can do the people part, I'll do the paper part, okay?' he said quietly, before his eyes widened and his face fell.

'Sammy? You o-'Dean couldn't finish his sentence before a waft of brown curly hair pounced on his brother, crushing him into an embrace.

'Sammy! Oh my god I haven't seen you for ever!' a high pitched voice said amid the hair, and Dean stood back to give them some space.

He winced as Sam awkwardly patted the girl's back as she pulled away. 'Hey Sue...' Sam said, a fake smile plastered on his face. Dean recognised it immediately.

'How are you? I mean, I know you're not fine, but, y'know ...' Sue was garbling, and Dean knew he'd have to get some out of here soon before he lost it too.

'I'm...coping...' Sam answered truthfully, looking at Dean with wide eyes.

Dean stepped forwards and gripped Sam's arm a little for support, where Sue couldn't see. 'Hey, we should get going, sorry-'he said, nodding at Sue, who had inexplicably started smiling broadly and puffing herself out.

'Hi...' she said, waggling her fingers at the older man.

'Er Hi...' Dean frowned. He knew the girls were hot, but for once in his life he knew this wasn't the time.

'We gotta go.' Dean said, smiling sweetly at Sue as he and Sam continued walking down the road.

'You okay?' he muttered. His face fell when Sam shook his head, and when Sam turned to face him, tears were tracking down his cheeks.

'Sammy...' Dean said, rubbing his brother's arms comfortingly. 'You wanna get a drink?' he said, looking for a bar or something.

'No I want to...I want to go and see her.' Sam said, his voice deep with emotion. 'I won't be long...' he promised, putting a hand on Dean's shoulder for a second before he walked further down the street into a side road.

Dean watched him go, emotion rising in his own chest. This was a crappy idea-how had he thought Sammy would be okay with this? He was the worst brother ever...

He sighed, and, spotting a small shop a few buildings down, walked down the road, against the crowd of students making their way to the University.

* * *

><p>Sam dropped to his knees slowly, landing gently in front of the grey marble stone. He pulled a bouquet of flowers from behind him, like a Valentine's Day suitor. He put the flowers down and began to carefully pick the dead leaves and excess grass away from the plot.<p>

'Hey...' he said, before he had to clear his throat from the immense emotion that had built up there. 'Long time no see...I got you some flowers, thought you'd like them...' he whispered, holding them up as if to seek Jess's approval. He chuckled, imagining his girlfriend nodding appreciatively at them. He started arranging them in some sort of order, making sure all the buds could see some sunlight once he had gone away.

He sat back after, just staring at the stone in front of them; the picture of Jess was a little dusty, but he had soon fixed that was a tissue. As he drew back, all his feelings attacked at once, culminating in tears.

Never again would he wake up with her latched to his chest, her sweet smell filling his nose, her fingernails digging in his stomach slightly as she clenched her fists in sleep. That was the part he missed most-not the partying, the drinking, the laughing...it was the quiet times he missed; the late night ice cream eating, the early morning talking...that was all gone now.

'Why?' he cried, wiping the tears that were pouring down his face. 'Why you? Why us? Why did you have to go?' he held his face in his hands, his back shuddering.

The quiet cemetery was silent apart from the sounds of birdsong, a sound Jess had loved.

He snuffled back the tears and stood up, wiping dirt from his palms as he looked ahead, breathing deeply.

'Sam?' Dean's voice cut into his reverie. He turned and smiled sadly at his big brother. Dean's eyes were wide and consoling; his lips formed a nervous, yet comforting smile.

'I just had to see her again...' he whispered, turning back as Dean drew level with him.

'I know...it's okay bro.' Dean said, draping an arm around his little brother, pulling him close as they both looked down at the stone. 'I bought you coffee.' He said, offering the drink to Sam.

'Thanks Dean.' Sam said, drinking half of it in one gulp.

'She'd be proud, you know? Of you, what you're doing.' Dean said gently.

'You think?' Sam asked, not quite believing it.

'Why not? She knew you how I know you- a kind, sensitive, intelligent kid-she'd be proud that you're saving people's lives, I know she would be...and I didn't even know her.' Dean said, pulling Sam even closer.

Sam chuckled, resting his head on Dean's shoulder for a few seconds before stretching. 'Thanks man...' he said, his face slightly red. 'That was a nice moment.'

'Shut up.' Dean chuckled, before turning to the stone in front of him and nodding his head slightly, before turning and walking back to the road.

Sam smiled down at where his girlfriend was now sleeping for eternity, and gave her a little wave, before giving a wet chuckle. 'I'll see you soon, okay?' he whispered, before kissing his fingers and blowing it to the stone. He turned and walked back to his brother, who was waiting patiently for him by the gate.

'When do you want to start?' he asked as they started walking back to the main street.

'How about tomorrow? You can do the research; I'll deal with the people, okay?' Dean said, looking sideways at Sam.

Sam nodded. 'Okay, I know a good little motel just outside town, cheap prices, three stars...'

'-How would you know of a motel if you stayed in the dorms?' Dean asked.

Sam gave him a wry look- 'How could me and Jess have a...full...relationship with six of us in one house, huh?' he asked, chuckling as Dean gave him a mock disgusted look.

'That-that was just too much information dude!' Dean said, winking at his brother as Sam laughed.

'Let's go get a beer.' He said, clapping Sam on the back as they walked back to the town centre.

The hunt would start tomorrow, and would hopefully not last more then a week.

So far, so good.

**Find out what happens next in the next few chapters! As I said before, the 'real' plot will start there-and I am massively excited about this one, I really hope your all going to love it!**

**Please review and next chapter will be up soon!**

**Xx **


	3. Chapter 3

**Hello! Thank you to everyone who has read, reviewed, alerted and put this on their favourites so far, I am so happy with the reception this story has got!**

**I hope you enjoy this next chapter as the story deepens...**

The next morning dawned bright and early, and when Dean's eyes snapped open, casting a glance at the clock which read 6.00am, he sat up, rubbing his face.

'Morning.' A small voice rang out in the silent room. Dean's face snapped up, a frown clouding his face as his eyes finally settled on the figure stood at the end of his bed.

Sam looked awful; he was pale, and had dark circles under his eyes. They had only been here twenty four hours.

'Sammy, you look beat man, did you get any sleep?' Dean asked, getting out of bed and padding into the bathroom.

'A little, I was doing some preliminary research...' Sam muttered, rubbing a hand down his face with a sigh. He pinched the bridge of his nose as he went to sit down again in front of his laptop.

Dean finished washing and dressing and walked in behind him, wiping his mouth with a cloth. 'We got anything in for breakfast?' he asked, opening the fridge and finding nothing.

'No, we didn't go out and get anything in, did we?' Sam replied, his eyes fixed on the screen.

'Why don't you give it a rest, eh? Catch up on some sleep?' Dean said, finally locating a can of Coke and opening it.

'I want to do this as quick as I can, okay? Give me the run down again.' Sam said, an irritated high tone to his voice.

Dean raised his eyebrows at this brother's back before sighing. He took a gulp of drink before beginning. 'It started around a week ago; three boys and a girl student turned up dead, nothing linking them accept they were in the same college year and they lived around this area.' He began, before moving off the sofa to leaf through some early newspaper reports. Sam didn't turn; he merely looked at the desk.

'One boy was stabbed, another had fourteen different gun shot wounds to his body, and the other two were drowned-one in the sink and one in the pool. The girl was killed by a falling brick wall.' He said, frowning as he read the last one.

'So...why are we investigating? Surely this is the work for police?' Sam asked, pushing his chair back and crossing his arms and he looked up at his brother.

'Well, motor mouth, you should listen to this bit...' Dean said, tapping the paper with his fingers. He cleared his throat. 'They were all straight A students, most would have gone on to work for the government, they were friendly, well liked-why would someone living kill them?' He asked.

'Yeah-but what makes it a spirit attack? This sounds like a nutty psychopath to me, not a blood-thirsty ghost.' He muttered.

Dean frowned and crinkled up his nose, looking back down at the papers in front of him. 'Well, I don't know...Bobby seemed sure, I just took him up on that...hmmm...' Dean looked stumped. He looked over at Sam, who was now giving him the death glare.

'What? Don't look at me in that tone princess!' he said, feeling heat in his chest.

'You should have made sure before we got here! You knew I didn't wanna come!' Sam stood up, an accusing look on his face.

'Hey hey-I said we'd take it at your pace, your time-this may still be a spirit!' Dean replied hotly, moving to stand in front of his brother.

'You knew this wasn't a spirit, we haven't found any evidence-'

'-Because we haven't done the research! This is what we do, or did you forget that in your time here?' Dean said, before he forced himself to turn away from him-this wasn't the time for an argument.

'You know I haven't! I just want to make sure we're doing something solid, not going after a wild goose!' Sam muttered.

Dean turned back, his face a little softer. 'I know Sammy-o, I know...I'll make sure, and if I don't have any evidence by tonight we stick this one in the 'bad box' and get going,' he suggested.

Sam nodded, and Dean saw his face was flushed, his eyes glassy. 'Hey...come here bro...' he said, before walking forwards and enveloping his brother in a hug. Manliness out of the window now-his brother needed him.

Sam let himself drop into the embrace, but he willed himself not to cry; he had spent most of the night in bed doing that. Dean rubbed his back a little, sniffing back his own emotion.

'You can stay here today, do some research-I'll bring food back, okay?' he said, grinning as Sam nodded into the crook of his neck. 'Don't get snot on my jacket you animal!' he chuckled as Sam stood up again, wiping his face. His efforts had been wasted on the crying front.

'What are you going to do then?' he said, turning back to his laptop.

Dean sighed, before picking up his leather jacket. 'Thought I might go round the student haunts, libraries, bars, cafes...might pick up some info that could be useful...' he said, before heading for the door. 'Call me if you need anything?' he called.

'You bet.' Sam replied, before the door closed behind him. He sighed as he looked at the huge pile of newspaper reports he hadn't yet looked at. He pulled a stack forwards and hunched over the desk, looking at the print.

The front page of the student paper was adorned with a black and white montage of the victims, and as he looked, Sam began breathing faster, his eyes moving fast as he read their names for the first time.

He knew all these people.

Sarah Smith...Caspar Hughes...he knew them all. They weren't in the same year as him, but he knew them all the same.

As Sam sat back, images and flashbacks began to zoom through his mind- _They were all laughing, with Sam at their side, a dark look on his face...the small, cramped attic...the glass...the board..._

Sam jumped as his phone rang loudly beside him. He snatched it up- 'H-Hello?' he muttered.

'Sammy? You okay?' it was Dean.

'I'm...I'm fine, why wouldn't I be?'

'You just sounded a bit off...did you find anything?'

'Umm...' Sam looked at the papers, at the familiar faces he knew so well. 'No, nothing really, just some small stuff.' He said.

'Damn, I'm sorry man; I put you here for nothing...' Dean trailed off, and Sam's heart sank.

'You coming back now?'

'No, I'll stay out for a few, you want burgers for dinner?'

'Yeah sounds great, see you soon.' Sam said, and before Dean could say anything else he signed off, throwing the phone down on the desk.

He sighed as he looked back at the pictures, a dark feeling in his stomach. He didn't know why these people were killed, or who killed them, or even if their deaths were related...but what they did that year, and the fact that he knew them? That was too much of a coincidence for him. He didn't like it.

He looked at the clock; Dean wouldn't be back for a while. He could get some more research done...but he needed a beer more. He jotted a note for Dean on some paper and grabbed his jacket, before heading out of the door, the wind flapping the black and white printed faces of the victims onto the floor by his desk.

**So, what do you think? I hope you liked it!**

**Please review!**

**Xxx **


	4. Chapter 4

**Hello! I hope you all had a great Christmas!**

**Enjoy this next chapter, and I hope you like the cliffhanger!**

Dean sighed and closed his reporter's notebook, rubbing a hand down his face before bidding his latest witness- a girl with blonde hair and a face full of freckles- a farewell with a tired wave. The young woman twiddled her fingers at him as she walked out the bar door, leaving Dean nursing his beer alone at a back table.

Sam had spent years here? He could see why, but to him, it all was a bit...samey. Educational posters on the wall of a drinking joint? Student cafes and shops for pens and pencils? Not for him. He preferred other walks of life.

He looked up as the door banged open, but returned to his drink as he saw it was just some Jocks coming from an after-game drink. He downed his beer and stood up, pulling on his leather jacket before making his way to the door. One of the Jocks turned from the bar, looked the Winchester up and down, before nodding his head curtly.

Eyebrows raised, Dean returned the gesture, before stifling a smile as he walked out. Kids these days.

He looked down the street for a burger joint; there should be something here, wherever teenagers lurked, grease and saturated fat would soon follow.

Dean sighed as the wind whipped in his face. He hoped (rather morbidly, he thought) that there was a case here-it would have been a waste of time for him, and a monumental waste of emotion and thoughts for his brother.

He fished his phone out and keyed in Sam's number; he had only called him an hour ago, but he liked to make sure the kid was alright. He raised the phone to his ear as he made his way back to the Impala for a scout of the burger bars.

The dial tone seemed to go on for hours, and as each noise ticked away Dean felt his heart and stomach sink further and further into his body. After what seemed like an ice age something clicked, and Sam's voice came on the other side.

'Hey Sammy I'm on my way back, you okay?' he asked, starting the engine.

'Ok, I'll come back too then, won't be long...'

'Whoa, wait-where have you been?'

'I left you a note.'

'Very funny smart-ass, I haven't been back yet, have I? Now where are you?'

'I just went out, chill man, I'm coming back now, I still need to do some more research, there's still some things that don't make sense to me.'

'Like what?'

'I'll fill you in when we eat, its a little complicated.'

'Okay... but you better be there before I get back.' Dean said sternly, looking down the streets for food.

'Yes Dad.'

'Sammy!'

'Okay dude, geez I just went for a beer...' Sam turned off with an irritated sigh. He looked up at the sky from the bench he was sitting on. The sky was clear, a peppering of stars covering it like icing sugar. When they were little, he and Dean had always thought that the sky had chickenpox when the stars came out.

He stowed his phone back away and stood, looking across the courtyard and down to the house at the end of the road. It was an old, Victorian era three storey house, boarded up and derelict, as it had been the last time he had been here.

The chill wind cut through his thin coat, and Sam looked around to see if other people were around. No, he was alone. As usual.

He took one last look at the house, spying the top window and giving it a lasting look before he turned away. Nothing untoward there anymore...

Maybe all these murders were coincidences? Maybe it was nothing to do at all with what they did that summer, after all-why did it have to be supernatural? It could just be a serial killer, a maniac with a penchant for teens.

Since when had it been that simple for them? Who was he kidding? It was all to do with what they did, he knew it.

He turned back to the house, his eyes wide. Maybe he should go back. He had more research to do, but four of his five friends had been murdered. There was only one person left. And him.

Suddenly, his phone rang, making him jump. 'Hello?' he said, turning back for the last time and walking back down the street away from the house.

'I'm just coming up the road Sammy, where are you?'

'I'm there okay, just having a shower-see you in a minute!' Sam said before turning off, a sly smile on his face. He looked up to their motel. He could make it if he ran.

* * *

><p>Dean turned the Impala back onto the motel car-park, parking his baby by the dumpster. He quickly grabbed the bags and made his way up the road to the entrance. He smiled at the rather scary looking receptionist- a bat faced old woman with an addiction for crosswords- and made his way up the carpeted stairs to their room.<p>

He turned the key in the lock and opened the door to a dark room.

'Sammy?' he muttered into the silence. He tried flicking on the light, but found it wouldn't switch on. Maybe the bulb had broken? He sighed and put down the take-out bags, before crossing to the bathroom. That light switched on easily, but there was no steam. If Sam had had a shower, it would still be steaming in here.

'Sam? Where are you man?' he asked. His fingers found his gun in his pocket, and he brought it out deftly and silently.

'Sam!' he growled, looking at the gloomy living space. His eyes widened as his eyes fell on the desk; there was a dark shadow sitting rock-still on the chair.

'Sam? Answer me dude!' Dean muttered, crossing the room quickly. A dark feeling hit the pit of his stomach as Sam didn't answer.

'Sam?' he whispered as he got up close. He fished a small torch out of his jacket and switched it on.

He fell to his knees when the light reached Sam. His brother was staring ahead, a pained look on his face.

'Sammy! Oh my God!' Dean yelled, pulling Sam towards him, his head flopping to the side. Blood spurted onto Dean's face.

'Sammy? Wha-'The torchlight fell on Sam's whole body now, and now he could see where the blood came from. Sam's throat had been cut from ear to ear.

He was dead.

**Please review!**

**X **


	5. Chapter 5

**Hello! I guessed I should get this chapter up pretty sharpish, I didn't want to torture you guys for too long! ^^**

**Enjoy this next chapter...**

_Twenty minutes earlier..._

Sam stopped for a moment for a breather; the motel was only a little further up the road, he didn't want Dean to know he had been running-what the hell would he think if he came out of the 'shower' sweating and panting? He smiled to himself as he looked up at the sky again. Dean had a dirty mind.

Just as he began to walk forwards a little the wind pitched forwards harshly, making his hair fly around his head-yet the trees beside him stayed silent and still.

Slowly he turned, eyes wide, his coat flying with the wind. Down the road were he had just run, which was cut off from the apartments and high street, stood a man. He was dressed in a ripped greatcoat, with baggy trousers with burn marks and holes in them. Sam drew in breath as realisation dawned on him. He knew this man.

'Sammy...' the figure moaned, a grotesque smile slipping onto its weathered face.

Sam took a step back, shaking his head. This wasn't possible. After all this time...

'I said I would be back, didn't I?' the figure continued, stepping forwards. 'I told you not to...I told you all not to do it...now you're going to pay.' The spectre laughed manically, its dead eyes glinting with malice.

'I didn't do anything, it wasn't me.' Sam interjected, feeling in his pocket for a weapon. He remembered his gun, rock salt and knife were in his duffel back at the motel. Damn.

'But you didn't stop them...you told them how...' the figure said, tilting its head to one side.

Sam shook his head, backing away. The spirit tilted its head to one side, another cruel smile on his face.

'You better go see your brother Sammy; I don't think he's going to be very happy pretty soon.'

'Dean...' Sam muttered, before turning on his heel and running up the road, the sound of the spectre's laugh howling through his mind.

* * *

><p><em>In the present...<em>

Dean recoiled from the body of his little brother, a choking cry pouring from his lips as tears fell onto the floor. Sam couldn't be dead. He had only spoken to him a few minutes ago. It couldn't be him.

He scrambled to his feet and lurched to the bathroom, clutching onto the toilet bowl as he emptied his stomach of beer. He sank onto the floor, sobs racking his body. It couldn't be Sammy. Not him.

He had only just found him again, after all this time...

The same words and phrases repeated over and over through his mind as he moved back towards his little brother's body. He looked fearfully through what seemed like a haze; a sheen of cloud seemed to come over his mind as he once again looked at his brother, at his face...he couldn't bring his eyes any lower.

'Oh my God...' he whispered to himself. Just as he walked forwards the door opened with a crash, and a figure came through the door.

Sam stopped dead as he took in the scene. Dean was standing by his desk, over what looked like his dead body. He watched as his brother, almost comically, looked from the dead-him to Sam himself, before doing it again.

'Dean, I'm sorry, I didn't want you to see this.' Sam panted, walking forwards, making sure he didn't look at 'his' body.

'Sam? Is it really you?' Dean murmured, before he looked back down at the prone body on the chair.

'Yeah this is me Dean.' Sam said, unsure of how to proceed. 'I was going to warn you about this-'

He couldn't finish his sentence before Dean threw his arms around him, his brother drawing in thick breath as he hugged him tight. Sam patted his back awkwardly-he had a feeling Dean wouldn't be feeling quite the same way soon.

As though Sam's words had only just got through to him, Dean drew back, a questioning look on his face.

'What do you mean you were going to warn me? You knew this was going to happen?' he breathed, backing away slightly. Sam's eyes widened as Dean looked at him in shock.

'I was going to tell you when we eat, I found some other things out, I was going to warn y-'he stopped short as Dean advanced on him, his arm raised as if he was going to strike him. Seconds later, his arm was down and Dean was shaking, cursing under his breath.

'I just...found you dead-and now you're telling me you knew! Why didn't you phone me Dammit!' he yelled, turning from Sam and looking at the wall. Sam could see his shoulders shaking from the other side of the room.

'I'm sorry Dean...I'm sorry.' Was all he could say, before he went and sat on the bed, waiting for his brother to make the next move.

Seconds passed like years, but finally Dean turned to face him, his face now a normal colour. His body was still shaking, whether it was from anger or shock Sam still didn't know.

'Why don't you explain to me just what the hell is happening?' he said in a forced calmness- Sam knew this from the sound of his voice; Dean was speaking through gritted teeth.

He sighed. 'What do you want to know first?' he asked lightly, trying to be helpful.

Dean looked at him like he had grown three heads. 'You want me to hit you for real?' he yelled, before shaking his head, an angry look on his face, but it soon peppered out as Sam looked sadly at the floor.

He gestured to the 'other Sam's' innate corpse. 'Can you throw a blanket on him or something?' he muttered.

'It's not me Dean.' Sam said quietly, but he threw his blanket over the body anyway, being careful not to look at it.

Dean saw what he was doing and frowned. 'Why aren't you looking at it? It's not you, remember?' he said, before going to his own bed and sitting down.

Sam sighed and rubbed a hand down his face, ignoring the question for the time being. 'This spirit, these murders-they are connected.' He started.

'Well duh, I know that now.' Dean snorted, shaking his head.

Sam continued after clearing his throat. 'I knew all the victims. Every one of them.' There. He had said it.

Dean didn't say anything. Thoughts whizzed through his mind. 'Go on.' Was all he could say.

'They were part of a...ghost hunting club at Stanford. They visited local haunts and locations to try and 'reawaken' the dead. Séances, Ouija boards, that sort of thing...' Sam stopped, looking up at his brother.

'How did you get involved? Please tell me you weren't part of a prissy ghost hunting troupe?' Dean said, a smile on his lips.

Sam shrugged, offering his brother a reproachful look. 'Why not? I had been hunting with you and Dad for months beforehand; it hadn't got out of my system yet. I needed to do...something...' he said quietly.

'You mean...you never stopped hunting even when you were here?' Dean said, hardly believing what he was hearing.

'Well, I didn't have any weapons, so doing that seemed like a release to me. I...well; I missed the adrenaline of it all...' Sam drew breath, before looking at his big brother.

'You really think I just switched off hunting? Could you?' he asked, before smiling as Dean shook his head.

'So what happened? Come on, tell me-why won't you look at the body? What did you and those ghost-bothering people do?' Dean asked, looking across at his brother.

Sam sighed. 'We didn't mean for it to happen, they thought it would be fun...I was just tagging along, a regulator for it all. It went wrong.'

'I gather-so tell me from the beginning then.' Dean said, now giving him a comforting smile.

'Okay, I'll start at the beginning and end and the end, shall I?' Sam said, before taking a deep breath. Everything he had done that summer would come spilling out, all the activity, and all the mistakes.

He only hoped Dean would understand.

**What did Sam do? What was with Sam's body, and why won't Sam look at it? All will be revealed in the next couple of chapters!**

**As the next chapter is Sam's story, most of the story will be in flashbacks, but it will have bits of the present in it as well ^^**

**Please review!**

**X **


	6. Chapter 6

**Hello! Enjoy this next chapter, its a little longer than the others ^^**

Nine months earlier...

Sam stepped into the lecture hall, smoothing down his coat as he went. The autumn rain was light, but it still managed to get into any nooks and crannies in his clothing somehow. He chanced a look around him, hoping to spot a certain someone.

Jess grinned at him from a row of seats near to the back, her notebook already open and pen ready. She waved quickly, motioning the vacant seat next to her.

Sam smiled gratefully as he walked to his seat, and as he sat down the teacher coughed loudly, causing some students to laugh.

'Ah, now Mr Winchester has arrived and the balance of the classroom has been set, shall we begin?' he asked lightly, a faint sneer on his face. Sam groaned-this new professor was going to be hard work.

He titled his head a little at the teacher before getting out his own pens and paper. As the teacher started speaking again he settled, only to be disturbed by low whistling and a poke in his back.

He looked at Jess quizzically before turning; Josh Turner, a burly boy with brown hair, was the one trying to catch his attention.

'Hey Rifle, you wanna have some fun tonight?' he hissed. Rifle was the name Sam was christened with when Josh and his posse learnt his surname. Sam shrugged, his eyebrows raised.

'Why?' he mouthed, although he probably already knew the answer. For the past few months, he and Josh's group had been touring the local haunts, just messing around-well, on Josh and his friend's parts at least. Sam was interested in the history and stories of the places; the spirits and ghosts were secondary for him now, he had already run away from his past once.

'I'll speak to you later Rifle, but it's gonna be a doozy.' Josh answered, before turning back to his papers with a smirk.

Sam turned back to the lecture, a small smile on his face. Only Josh and his band of Merry Ghost hunters used words like 'Doozy' nowadays. He had affection for them, would always make sure they didn't come to any harm-but he didn't half find them annoying.

The lesson was boring, and once or twice Sam found his eyes drooping; he really shouldn't have spent half the night writing those letters. He wouldn't ever send them, why would he? No, he wrote them to burn them. He got all his feelings, his thoughts, even his regrets, onto those letters, and then he would simply burn the evidence. It was like an addiction of his.

The only thing that kept him going through that three and a half hour lecture was Jess. When he felt like nodding off she would gently put her hand on his and squeeze it slightly, causing him to jolt upwards with a funny fizz in his chest.

After what seemed like an ice age, and after a mountain of homework and reports was given out everyone made their way to lunch.

Jess snuggled into Sam's shoulder, her blonde hair falling perfectly into her face as she smiled brightly up at him. 'What are we doing this evening Sam? I've got some work to do, but I'm free at nine?' she asked as they sat down with their lunch.

Sam shrugged; his eyes falling onto the table were Josh was eating. 'I don't know, but Josh said he could have something planned, wanna tag along?' he asked, taking a bite from his sandwich.

Jess looked at him with her eyebrows raised. 'Really? Go out with you and the ghost patrol? I know you like that kind of stuff, but it's really not my idea of a good time.' She said, shrugging.

'That's a no then?' Sam asked, quirking an eyebrow at her.

'Yes, it's a no-we can do something another time I guess...' Jess tailed off, sucking on a straw.

'Sorry, I'll make it up to you.' Sam said sweetly, squeezing her forearm affectionately. Now it was Jess's turn to quirk an eyebrow, 'I know you will.' She grinned.

* * *

><p>Later than evening, Sam put on his heavy coat he normally wore to hunts with his Dad and Dean. It was a good quality coat, and he wanted to keep some memories at least.<p>

Jess was with some friends in an all night cafe, doing some reports they had left to the last minute- and Sam, being the organised, hard working person he was, had already done all of his work, even the ones he was given today. He liked to be work free; it gave him more time for fun.

He crossed the college grounds and made his way out of the campus, turning up his collar as he went. The rain was now falling more heavily, and huge black storm clouds made the early evening sky seem even bleaker.

He kept walking until he reached what the other kids called 'Dead Man's Road.' Sam had read up on the local legend before coming down here. He crossed the path and walked down the road.

As he looked up at the house; a flickering light was on in one of the top windows on the third story of the old former stately home.

Sam shrugged to himself; maybe this would be on of the better hunts? He had been on three or four since he had been here, but they had all turned out either to be a complete let down, or some sort of prank for the other members of the team. It always left Sam disappointed and annoyed with himself about how much he had got sucked into it, only for it to turn out to be false.

He crossed the lawn and rapped on the old wooden front door. After a few seconds, which Sam surmised were given for a 'creepy house affect', the door creaked slowly open, and Josh's beaming face peered out.

'Hey Rifle, glad you could make it!' he grinned, clapping Sam on the shoulder as he walked in.

'Wouldn't miss this...' Sam replied, trying to be enthusiastic-from what he had read on this house, it was going to be a long shot before he wrote it down in a letter.

'Where is everyone?' he asked as he followed Josh up the creaky stairs, noting the dust shooting out of the squashed old wooden steps as he trod on them.

'Upstairs getting everything ready, I think it'll be a good one.' Josh said as he finally reached the landing for the third floor. Sam raised his eyebrows behind his back; he hoped so.

Josh walked to a door near the back of the house and walked inside, holding it open for Sam to follow. He smiled and waved to the other occupants of the room-the whole gang seemed to be here.

Sarah Smith, a girl in Sam's form, was standing by the window, her lustrous brown hair tied up in pigtails. Standing next to her was Caspar Hughes; he was a lean, good-looking man, and also Sarah's boyfriend. The other three Sam only knew by sight, not by name-but then, they only met once every month or so, so they never really needed to know about each other.

'Hi guys, so, what are we doing then?' Sam asked the room at large, his eyes scanning the whole room. His nose turned up slightly when he saw the Ouija board-he had used it before with the group, but never really liked using the thing. He had enough experience not to really mess with these things-but his past was finished, and he realised he could try out things that his father had never let him do when he was with him.

It was stupid, probably irresponsible, and maybe dangerous, but Sam reasoned that he would always know what to do if things went wrong.

His nose wrinkled even more when he spotted a six pack by the wall; with a half open other pack resting on top of it.

'Really?' he muttered, before shrugging and sitting down by the board.

'So, who wants to tell the story?' he asked, smiling slightly as Josh branded an EMF sensor from his pocket at him. '...What's that then?' he asked lightly, not wanting to appear to know things.

Josh took a while to answer, 'Well, it picks up...spirity things, don't it?' he sniffed, before switching it on and waving it around.

Sam coughed back a snort and looked down at the board. It was made of black wood, and instead of a planchette was a small glass.

'The story goes that a child murderer lived here over a hundred years ago-he killed little boys by throwing them down wells. Over thirty of them I read on one website.' Josh said, throwing the EMF meter to the floor with a sniff. 'Stupid thing...' he muttered, before sitting down opposite Sam and motioning for the others to join them.

'According to the story he was killed when one of the kid's fathers got a little friendly with the alcohol and a shotgun; shot over thirty times, one for every victim.' He said, blowing some dust off the board.

'Ah.' Sam said, he had heard this story too. The spirit was supposed to be completely malevolent, an insane poltergeist with a penchant for boys and vulnerable girls. There was supposed to be an annual ghost hunt for the ghost, but for now it was just them.

'It says he attacks the people who try and get him to contact them-they say he tries to kill them.' Josh said, looking sideways at Sam.

'Should we do it then?' Sarah said nervously, looking at Caspar with wide eyes.

'Sam? You say you know what you're doing, can we do it?' Josh asked.

Sam shrugged. The stories could well be true, but he figured he could handle it. Dad had trained him to the top of his game; everything would be fine. 'We'll do a little, and then stop for the night, okay? Then we can decide to do it again or not, okay?' he replied.

'That sounds like a plan-Shall we get started then?' Caspar asked, putting his finger on the glass. Sarah did the same with a giggle, while Josh did it whilst blowing out air slowly.

Sam stopped himself from smiling just at the last second as he put his own finger on the glass. Most of the time Ouija boards didn't work, because ghosts were just air, bad feelings and expectations, but Sam had a good feeling about this one.

Almost immediately the glass started to move in lazy circles around the board.

'Mr Mosley, are you here?' Josh called out, looking around the room.

Sam frowned as he felt Goosebumps rise on his skin-it had suddenly got really cold in the room despite the small fire in the hearth by the window.

'This is fast...' Sarah muttered, looking uneasily at Caspar, who put a hand on her shoulder.

'It's ok.' Sam reassured her, before looking down at the board again. This was quite fast, he had to admit, but it was easy to fix-he had already been in the room, setting down some protection he had kept from his hunting days.

The glass began to move quicker now, screeching against the wood as Josh began to speak again.

'Have you got a message for us? We're here to listen to you.' He asked, before they sat back, waiting.

Things happened almost simultaneously after that. A harsh wind suddenly blew up out of nowhere, sending dust and small stones flying around the room. Everyone covered their eyes as they were covered by the grey dust, with Sam reeling back with his hands over his eyes. As the harsh wind flew around the room, making a huge whooshing noise, Sam heard three separate yells and screams, but suddenly everything stopped, and silence fell on the old house.

Then a laugh started up, a laugh so deep it was almost hard to hear. Sam uncovered his eyes with his stomach near his feet, his eyes wide as he surveyed the room.

Josh was lying next to him, groaning. Caspar was holding a sobbing Sarah in his arms, but at first glance they seemed unhurt.

Sam stood up shakily, unsure of what to do. His eyes settled on the middle of the room, and his heart dropped.

In the middle of the room stood a dark figure of a man of around forty, his ripped clothes hanging off him. The man was wearing an evil sneer that made Sam very uncomfortable.

'You called?' the figure growled, before laughing once more, moving its hand in a downwards motion.

Sam felt the air being knocked out of his stomach as he fell to his knees. He looked around desperately, trying to think of something to do. What would Dean do? What would he do if this happened?

Dark realisation hit him in an instant. Dean wouldn't have done this. Not in a million years.

'You let me out. Thank you.' The figure sneered, stepping forwards.

'Well you're just about to go back to hell-'Sam began, but with a growl the figure moved his hand again and he was thrown up in the air before coming back down to the wooden floor with a bump. He groaned in pain and clutched his stomach, dust sticking into his face as he rested it on the floor.

'I'm free now.' A voice said close to his ear. 'You can't stop me-and I'm going to kill you.'

Sam jolted upwards and reached into his pocket, pulling out a handful of salt and throwing it at the spirit. Mr Mosley reeled back, yelling in pain, but he was soon okay, growling in anger as he tried to spot Sam. Sam was knelt down by Josh, trying to rouse the innate man.

'Come on, we gotta go.' Sam jostled him, shaking his shoulder roughly. Josh stirred, groaning.

'What happened?' he moaned as he sat up. Sam helped him up. 'Its gone wrong, we gotta go, I gotta sort this out...' Sam muttered, helping him to the door.

Before he could follow Josh and the others down the stairs the door closed with a bang, closing him off from the others.

He turned to the spirit, who was laughing. He looked down at the board, cursing as he saw that it was smashed to pieces, the shards of glass scattered across the room.

'You can't stop me. You're all going to die.'

'You can't hurt us-You're bound to this house, this space. You can't harm us.' Sam said strongly, facing the spirit with a set look on his face.

'Oh but I can-I'm free now, I don't have to just haunt this space. You can't stop me because your toys broken.' It sneered, nodding to the board.

'You wait, it might not be now, or in a few days-but I will get you. I miss killing. You are all going to die, and there is nothing you can do to stop me.' it grinned, before it started fading.

'No! You have to stay here!' Sam yelled, growling in frustration as the laugh faded.

This was his fault, he had told them it was safe, and now there was a threat against all of them. If only he had thought this through-there was a reason he had left the hunting life, and maybe this was it. He had now endangered five other people's lives, and that was unforgivable.

What was he going to do?

**What is Dean going to say, and what else has Sam yet to reveal? Find out in the next chapter!**

**Please review!**

**Xxx **


	7. Chapter 7

**Hello! Thank you to everyone who is enjoying this story, and thank you all so much for all the support you've given this story, its amazing!**

**Enjoy this next chapter, its a little short, but I hope you like it!**

There was complete silence in the room, all for a low hum coming from the fridge by the window. Sam took a deep breath before finally looking up at his brother; he had been looking at anywhere but his direction when telling his story.

Dean wasn't looking at him either; he was looking down at the floor, shaking his head ruefully.

'Well?' Sam muttered his voice low and slightly frightened.

Dean looked up sharply, an unreadable look on his face. 'Well what?' he barked, before standing up and crossing to the fridge. He pulled it open and grabbed a beer, snapping the top off with his teeth before taking a large gulp.

'I was just wondering what your thoughts were, that's all.' Sam replied, the younger Winchester twisting around and staring at his big brother.

'Right now I just wanna kick your ass, but I know it's not gonna help anything...'

'Come on Dean, just tell me.'

'I don't think you really want to know what I think Sammy...' Dean said in a low voice, his eyes burning a bright green as he surveyed the man in front of him. In an instant, Sam could tell his brother's feelings; it was disappointment, only tinged with anger-and somehow that was worse.

'You're angry and upset, I can tell, but if we don't talk-'

'Talk? Talk? Sam, you kept this one under your belt for months! Don't start preaching to me about talking about things! How long did you know this fugly was back? Huh? The moment we got here?' Dean sneered, crushing his empty can and reaching for another.

'No, I wasn't sure until tonight, when I read the other names and did some more digging...' Sam answered, standing up and facing Dean with an open look on his face. 'But now I've told you, we can sort this out.'

'Why should I help? I never keep things like this from you, never! Why should I?' Dean snapped, his face twisting angrily before he took a deep breath and shook his head.

Sam stepped back a little, a frown on his face. 'I started this, I don't expect your help, I just thought this was what we did, no matter the story.' He argued, before walking to his bed and sitting down.

'Hey, don't bring this around and make me the bad guy-If you had told me about this, we could have done something sooner, but you like being the mysterious one, don't you Sammy? You like the intrigue and suspense of a good case-'

'How can you be such a jerk about this-you asked me and I told you; we have to do something!' Sam snapped, redness creeping in his cheeks.

'Alright, let's just talk this through-but don't think I'm letting you get away with this...' Dean snapped, unwilling to go any further. Sam was right; people had died, they had to help.

Sam took a deep breath and opened out his hands. 'What else do you wanna know?' he asked quietly.

Dean opened his mouth to speak, but as he did his eyes caught the chair by Sam's desk. The body was gone.

'What the hell...' he muttered, before looking quizzically at Sam. Sam shrugged, before looking pointedly at his brother.

Dean turned away from the chair and sat down on his own bed. 'Okay, I gotta get a few things straight-why has this thing come back now?'

'Well, it's only been a few months, but I don't know why it's taken so long for it to get around everyone, I don't know...' Sam said quietly.

'Why haven't you told me you did this? Hunting things and everything?' Dean asked, his voice lower now, more comforting. 'You know how dangerous it is, and you couldn't have called us for help.'

'Why not? Anyway, like I said, it was just hard to get it out of my veins; I missed the rush of doing it.' Sam admitted, looking at his brother with wide eyes.

'Okay, I get that, I really do-by why didn't you tell me about this spirit?' Dean asked, taking another gulp of his drink.

Sam sighed heavily, pulling a hand down his face. 'Because I knew you'd get angry with me, and be disappointed with what I did-'

'Damn right.'

'Exactly, I didn't want to tell you because you'd be like this...'

'Spare me the violin Sam, this isn't about you anymore-' Dean snapped-it seemed to Sam that it would take a long time for him to earn trust back from his brother.

'-But there is something that I would like to know.' Dean said, standing up and sitting down back next to his brother.

'What's that?' Sam asked, turning to look his brother straight in the eyes.

'What's with the dead you? I've never heard or seen anything like that-what is that all about?'

Sam chuckled darkly and stood up. 'Its the spirit's way of messing with its victims, I was only sure about what they were for sure after reading some more witness reports. The spirit likes to play mind games.'

'Whoa, you said victim-'Dean barked out, standing up with wide eyes as he stood nearer his brother; his brother's name and the word 'Victim' would never go together when he was around.

Sam nodded slowly, a haunted look in his eyes. 'It's favourite way of doing it is to show an echo of the future, a snapshot of what is to come for you, that's why I wouldn't look at it properly, I didn't want to know-' he looked at Dean and took a deep breath, and saw his brother was looking at him with an expression of pure horror.

'-Dean, you just saw how I was going to die.'

**Oh dear...what's going to happen next? Find out in the next chapter!**

**Thank you for reading, and please review, I would love to know what you think of this chapter!**

**Xxx **


	8. Chapter 8

**Hello, I'm back ^^. I am so sorry for the time between chapters, I apologise.**

**This chapter is a little on the short side I admit, but you'll see how it opens the next few chapters as you read it, so it's not just short because I ran out of things to say :D **

**This chapter takes place immediately after the last.**

**Enjoy...**

Dean backed away from his brother, sat down on his bed and put a trembling hand to his mouth, his ashen face staring at his little brother, who was sat on his own bed.

'I-I don't understand, how could this spirit show something like that? I've never heard of it before...' he muttered, tapping a foot on the ground.

Sam shrugged and breathed out slowly. 'I don't know how it does it, but from witness reports and other testimonies...it was spot on each time-'

'-Don't, don't say that...' Dean interjected, his hands still shaking as he clutched the edge of his bed. He was still trying to take everything in...it was all becoming too much for him, how could any of this be happening?

'I'm sorry Dean; this is all my fault.' Sam's voice wavered as he stood and stretched, eyeing the chair where his future self was lying only minutes before.

'No, you were trying to do things to help people, like you used to-I can't blame you for that...but you should have come to me, should have rung me-anything apart from keeping quiet.' He gently scolded, willing his brother to understand.

Sam nodded, before he ran a hand down his face and cleared his throat. 'What do we do now?' he asked the room at large, the silence now ringing in his ears as he turned to face his brother.

'Well, we gotta find away to blast this spirit before it...before it-'

'Before it get's me first.' Sam finished for him, a stronger edge to his voice this time. 'And we won't let it get that far.'

'You're damn right we won't.' Dean agreed, before he knelt down under his bed and dragged out his duffel and flung it on his bed.

He looked up at Sam, who was staring down at him. 'Aren't you coming?' he asked lightly. 'I aint saving your bacon alone princess.' He flashed a grin before turning back.

Sam allowed himself a small smile before reaching down under his own bed and pulling out his bag. He rifled through, bringing out bags of salt and checking out his gun to make sure it was in proper working order. They sat in silence for the hour or so they worked, the room only punctuated by breathing and the creak of Dean's bed as he kept turning round to look at his brother every five minutes.

Each noise reassured the younger Winchester, yet the feeling of abject dread still filled his heart. Five people before him had perished having seen their future selves in the states that had-how could he have a chance now Dean had seen his?

Dean must have read his thoughts; he got up and crossed to his brother before putting a strong hand on his shoulder. 'Hey-we're gonna do this? Okay, you are not going to die. End of.' He stated. 'Besides, old Lucy don't want you down in hell-you're way too annoying for him!' he joked, chuckling as Sam aimed his fist at his midriff. He jerked away as Sam snorted, before he stood up and stretched once more.

He stopped with his arms only halfway down to his body as he turned, his eyes wide and determined as he looked at his brother.

'Dean, tell me how I died.' He asked, putting his hands down as his unwavering gaze pierced his brother.

'What? No. No way Sammy, I wouldn't do that to you...' Dean said at once, dropping his gun on his bed and stepping forward to his brother, something heavy and suddenly painful sitting in his stomach-why the hell did he just ask that?

Sam shook his head. 'No, I want to know-I need to know how it happens.' Dean knew his brother was stubborn, but couldn't he see that he didn't need to know? He wished he didn't know.

'Why? It'll drive you mad Sammy, you don't kneed to know it.' he pressed, trying to give Sam a comforting smile, but failing as his brother shook his head ruefully.

'Please, just tell me...I just want to be prepared.'

'For what, your death? No, no Sammy, you wanna know why-cos you're not going to die.'

'You saw it happen, you know what it going to happen to me- why don't we just get it over with?' Sam muttered, his voice high and cracking and he flexed his hands.

Dean shook his head at his brother, wondering what the hell was making his brother say these things; he really didn't want to know, why did he want to know all of this?

Alarm grew in Dean's chest; Sam was giving up, he was looking for a way out.

Not on his watch.

He crossed over to his brother a clapped another hand on his shoulder again. 'Right, now you listen to me right now, and you listen good; you are not gonna die, I won't let it happen-'

'But you s-'

'I don't care what I saw-it's not going to happen, and I promise you that on my own life. It is not going to happen.' He repeated, steering his brother onto his bed and sitting down next to him.

Sam looked down at the floor. 'How can you be so sure?' he muttered, his shaking hands on his knees.

'Dude-I'm your big brother; it's what I do.' Dean stated, nudging Sam's shoulder and grinning.

Sam looked up and smiled at his brother, but the feeling of dread and trepidation stayed.

'Look, we're going to do our research as soon as possible, we're gonna do this right the first time okay-but I promise you, you are not going to die on me.' Dean promised, before slapping a hand on Sam's knee and standing up and pulling on his jacket.

'W-where are you going?' Sam asked, eyes wide as he stood too.

'You are gonna take me to his house where you and your posse did their little 'investigation', then we are going to do some more research and find a way to gank this spirit-are you with me?' Dean asked, one hand on the door handle, his face set and determined.

Sam took one more look at the chair, made up his mind, and grabbed his jacket. 'Of course I am.'

Dean smiled and nodded gratefully, 'That's my boy,' he chuckled as Sam walked out the room.

The older Winchester gave the room a look once more, skipping over the chair, before switching off the lights and shutting the door with a snap.

**I hope you enjoyed this chapter, I enjoyed writing this chapter and getting back into the swing of it again ^^**

**Please review, I would love to know what you think!**

**Xx **


	9. Chapter 9

**Hi! Well...it's been a while, hasn't it? Real life just went into overdrive, and I went along with it ^^**

** I'm really sorry for all the people who have been waiting for this story, you guys are so patient. I really hope you enjoy this chapter, and that is has been worth the wait**

**Enjoy...**

As it was the middle of the night, on a wet autumn evening, the road leading up to the house was empty and silent, except for the hooting of night owls and the rustling of leaves in the wind.

Dean walked ahead, his teeth chattering but his mind set and ready. He was gonna stop this from happening, no matter what. He chanced a look to his side and saw Sam slowing down, his wide eyes looking up at the attic space; the muscle in his brother's jaw was jumping.

'Hey, you okay?' Dean muttered, raising his eyebrows to try and cheer him up. He couldn't deal with Sammy like this.

Sam gave a small, nervous smile and a quick nod. He shouldn't be this scared, he told himself. He was old enough to not be scared of these things...then why was he so worried?

Dean nodded to the affirmation and carried on, digging his hands deep into his pockets to block out the chill that was turning them to ice blocks. Their shoes clacked on the pavement, the only human sound for miles.

Dean reached the house first. The black metal gate looked old and rusty. He pushed it open tentatively, gritting his teeth and wincing as it made a loud squeaking noise. Sam hissed in annoyance, giving Dean a death stare.

Dean shrugged then softened his look. 'C'mon Sam, let's go in and take a look around.' He said, before walking up the path and up to the front door.

Sam blew air through his mouth and slumped slightly before following. He reached the door as Dean opened it with a groan. 'Wow this is heavy...' he muttered, fixing his flashlight and shining it into the space beyond the door.

The room was spacious and empty, broken glass and leaves littered the floor, newspaper pages curled into the corners, their words faded through time.

Dean sighed audibly, looking around at this dingy place, wondering why anyone-ghost enthusiast or not- would want to spend the evening freezing their hair off here. He shot Sam a look as he swung the light behind him; Sasquatch was picking his way across the room, head low, his shoulders lower.

'You okay dude?' Dean called, ill-concealed concern in his voice. He had good right to be worried this time.

Sam jumped slightly at the noise, but turned and gave his brother a small smile, nodding lightly. 'Yeah, I'm doing okay.' He replied, before turning back, his gaze reaching the stairs.

'This way.' He muttered, before ascending the now rotting stairs, every creak and groan reverberating in his brain like explosions.

Dean followed dutifully behind with the flashlight, never more than a step behind his brother. A rat squeaked, making him shudder and moan slightly, but he never stopped following. Soon they had reached the next landing, this floor as desolate and depressing as the one below.

'You said all this happened in the attic right?' Dean asked, walking to the side of Sam, his eyes wide and alert.

'Yeah, we never really explored the rest of the house...' Sam said with a shrug, before he turned to the next set of stairs that led to the attic- these were steep and narrow and led deep to the upper house.

'Good job too.' Dean snorted. 'Who knows what else you and those crazy kids could've summoned up!'

Sam shot him a withering look before climbing the winding staircase, head bowed against the low ceiling.

The next room they came to, Sam stopped dead in the doorway. Dean almost walked into him had it not been for the huge shadow that had suddenly barred his way.

'You sure you wanna do this? We're just gonna have a peek, no big deal, just a look, okay?' Deam muttered, placing a hand on Sam's shoulder. He could feel his brother quivering through his jacket.

'Yeah, I'm okay, I'm good...let's just get this over with.' Sam whispered, not moving his head an inch.

'Understood.' Dean nodded, before prodding Sam lightly in the back to make him move. Sam shot forwards slightly, both hands holding the doorway as if for support.

Dean could hear his brother taking deep breaths and began to feel really worried. This had spooked Sammy so much, and he wasn't even there when it happened...

'It's okay Sammy; I've got your back- I promise.' He said, and he stood back, waiting for Sam to walk in first.

Sam could feel his heart beating in his chest; it was like a freight train run wild. He closed his eyes for a few seconds to calm himself, before inwardly cursing for being such a coward. He opened his eyes, head as clear as it ever was going to be. He stepped forwards, and entered the room.

The room was dark and smelt of damp, mottled mould now adorned the corners of the walls and the ceiling. The small chair that had once been sat on was now lying broken in a corner, the bare wooden floor scratched and gnarled.

Sam stepped further into the room, trying to look around with fresh, dispassionate eyes. The past seemed to play out before him, leading to that awful moment when that spectre had appeared- a crash below made him jump a mile in the air, but Dean was quickly by his side, a reassuring hand on his shoulder.

'You want me to check it out?' he whispered, nodding downstairs.

Sam shook his head, instantly feeling childish. 'Later, let's just stay here for now.' He said despite himself, but Dean merely nodded, unfazed. 'Okay dude.' Was all he said.

Sam looked to the centre of the room, his gaze drawn to a space on the floor that was darker than the wood around it. Whatever it was had a thick layer of dust covering it, but Sam already knew what he had spotted. He walked over, bent down and picked it up, wiping up the gray dust with a hand. He let out a small groan as his eyes swept over the board.

Dean looked up from his packet of rock salt he was checking over, his heart in his mouth when he realised Sam wasn't in front of him. He looked around, spotting him with something in his hands.

'What's tha-oh.' He had recognised it already. It was that damn Ouija Board those stupid kids had used to summon the bastard that had killed them off.

'Sammy, put it down.' He ordered, his voice low. Sam didn't say anything for a few seconds; just stood, gazing at the damn board. 'Sam!' Dean grunted, prompting Sam to drop it as though it was on fire.

He heard Sam sniff, but turned his head. They had to deal with this thing now for once and for all.

They continued to look around the room for other clues, but it was bare apart from a family of ants and a set of cockroaches that had occupied the seat of the broken chair.

'Nada.' Dean muttered after fifteen minutes. He was sat on his haunches, bent over a crumpled newspaper from three years ago. Nothing of interest on it at all.

Sam looked up, shrugging. 'I- I'm sorry...' he began.

'Why? Is it your fault we can't find a way to stop it? No, so stop whining princess.' Dean said, before winking.

Sam smiled wearily, before turning to the door. 'You wanna call it a night?' he asked, motioning the door.

Dean clucked with his teeth and shrugged. 'We'll check the internet and records tomorrow, there we might find something of use, cos an answer sure aint here!' he smiled.

Sam nodded, and waited for his brother to join him before they both walked to the door.

Suddenly, behind them an almighty crash made them both jump; Dean grabbed Sam's arm with one hand and his other flew to his gun. They simultaneously turned to find nothing there in the room behind them.

They silently turned quickly, but their way was barred by a hideous spectre, a macabre grin on its dead face.

'Going somewhere?'

**What's going to happen next? Will the boys come out of the house unscathed? Find out in the next chapter!**

**Please review, I would love to know what you thought!**

**Xxx **


	10. Chapter 10

**Hello! I'm sorry for being so late, I hope this makes up for it!**

**Enjoy! **

Dean grasped Sam's arm and pulled him back into the room, away from the spirit standing in the doorway.

'Did you think I forgot about you?' it hissed, voice low as it stepped into the room. Dean felt Sam stiffen beside him.

'I know what you two think you are going to do; destroy me, send me away from this place- it will not work. I will not rest until you are dead, and that is a promise.' It said, stopping in front of the brothers, its black eyes resting on Sam.

'Oh yeah? Well I have a promise for you- We are going to smoke you, you son of a bitch, and you will not hurt my brother!' Dean growled, before delving deep into his jacket pocket, and flinging his open palm into the spirit's face. The rock salt peppered its skin, causing the spectre to reel back, clawing at its face and yelling.

'Move Sammy!' Dean instructed, shoving his brother in front of him and pushing him out of the room. They ran down the stairs, the noise deafening them.

'We need to get out of here and work out where this ghost's corpse is- this needs to end tonight!' Dean yelled, looking behind him to make sure the ghost wasn't following. Sam led them to the door, flinging it open. They looked down the street; it was still as silent as when they had arrived.

A split second later, Dean watched, completely helpless, as Sam was propelled against the opposite wall, hitting his head with a thud.

'Sammy!' he yelped, flinging himself forwards as his brother slid down the wall, groaning.

Before he could even run two paces he felt an almighty force lift him off his feet, and he yelled as he felt himself fall backwards, hitting the ajar front door and falling into the garden, sliding on the grass.

He moaned as he sat up, before scrambling to his feet.

He looked up to see the spectre standing in the open doorway, and sneer on its pale face.

'NO!' Dean yelled as the front door swung shut with Sam inside it.

* * *

><p>Dean bolted for the door, banging his fists against the wood desperately. 'Sammy!' he yelled, trying to force the door open. He heard a crash inside the room, followed by a yell of pain from his brother.<p>

'Sam!' Dean stood back, flinging a hand through his hair, his eyes wide. He looked on the ground beside the house, hoping to see something to break the windows with, but he couldn't see anything.

Laughter echoing from inside the house made him growl in anger and throw himself at the door again.

'I'm coming Sammy!' He yelled, voice cracking as he heard Sam whimper in pain. Dean moaned in utter frustration as he kicked and pummelled the door.

A fresh scream of agony from Sam propelled him into action.

'I'm coming back for you Sammy!' he yelled, before he took off running down the street, not daring to take a second look back. He reached the motel in a minute flat, tearing through the reception and thundering up the stairs.

He flung open the door and ran to Sam's laptop. 'Come on…come on…..' Dean moaned, voice cracking as his eyes scanned the webpages.

Sam had said the spirits name was a guy called Mr Mosley, and he killed the kids thirty years ago. Dean searched for the name, mouthing the words with tears in his eyes. He had to get back to Sammy; he had to help his brother….

'There!' he yelped out, standing up as he read the obituary for a Mr James Mosley, convicted child killer. 'Sundown Cemetery…' Dean muttered to himself. He remembered driving past it on the way to the house.

He slammed the laptop shut and ran out of the room, making sure the keys to the Impala were still in his jacket pocket as he went.

* * *

><p>Sam moaned in pain as he landed face first onto the floor, the air knocked out of him. He groaned and scramble up, blood running down his face from a cut to his scalp.<p>

'I am going to have fun with you Sam- you are my last victim.' The spirit said, stepping forwards.

'Please…' Sam muttered, before he was thrown back against the opposite wall. He yelped in pain as he felt something crack in his body, before he slid down the wall once more.

'Please?' the spirit mocked, striding towards Sam and making him stand up. 'I spend all this time in hiding, ready to kill whoever crosses me, and you think you can repel me by saying please?' it laughed as Sam closed his eyes and groaned. 'You make me sick.' It sneered, before sending Sam flying to the floor once more.

* * *

><p>The cemetery was silent in the still darkness, until the Impala roared into the clearing, and Dean jumped out. He groaned as he surveyed the scene- the Cemetery was huge.<p>

'Oh God….' Dean groaned, before he delved forwards to the graves that looked a little older than the others. He held the flashlight high as he jogged between them, his eyes wide as he scanned each stone.

After what felt like hours, even years, Dean stopped, breathing heavily as he looked down at the solitary stone set away in the corner of the grass, away from the others. The stone was old and broken, but Dean could make out the name as if it were burnt on.

He held up his shovel, and got to work.

* * *

><p>As Sam hurtled to the floor for what felt like the thousandth time, he didn't even have the strength to stand up; he just lay there, trying to ride the waves of pain flowing through his body. The floor smelt like damp; it clogged into his nostrils and made him gag. He closed his eyes and lowered his head to the floor as the spirit of Mr Mosley laughed manically from above him.<p>

'Enough playing now….you've seen what will happen to you in the end, I just want to get it done now.' The spirit said, almost nonchalantly as lifted a hand to make Sam stand up with a groan.

Sam's mind flashed to his brother- Where was Dean? Why wasn't he helping him?

His eyes widened as the ghost laughed once more then disappeared. He looked around, pain coursing through him. Suddenly, an almighty pain shot through his neck; he reared up with a scream, pulling shirt away from the source of agony.

He ran into the kitchen, to the broken mirror that was fixed to the wall. As he stood watching with wide, horrified eyes a line of red appeared across his neck, getting deeper and deeper.

His throat was being cut as he watched.

**Is Dean too late to save his brother? Find out in the next chapter!**

**I really hope you enjoyed this chapter, please review! **


	11. Chapter 11

**Hello! **

**This is the penultimate chapter of this story; I hope you've all enjoyed the ride so far!**

**Enjoy... **

Dean felt the sweat pour off his face and stick his hair to his head as he desperately dug at the hard earth; it didn't seem to be giving at all. He growled in frustration, a panicked sob rocking his body as he pulled the shovel above his head and smashed the tip down into the earth once more- miraculously, it made a dent.

'Come on...come on...please...' he begged, his muscle fibres in his arms burning as he dug feverishly. He gritted his teeth and carried on; he could break his arms for all he cared- as long as Sammy was okay.

Finally, after what felt like a decade, the mud began to shift and pretty soon he heard a dull clunk as metal found wood.

'Finally...' Dean growled, kneeling in the grave pit to expose the skeleton.

* * *

><p>Sam stumbled back from the mirror, tripping over his own feet; he sprawled on the floor with a gasp, clutching his neck and trying not to sob. The pain was indescribable, like someone had taken a red-hot poker and shoved it down his throat. He couldn't swallow, could barely breath.<p>

He scrambled up as he heard laughter, before buckling to his knees as a fresh wave on pain spread from his neck; blood oozed down his closed hands and onto the floor. Sam felt the warm liquid pooling underneath him. He closed his eyes and groaned in pain as he forced himself up. He had to get out, he had to do something. He couldn't just _sit here and die._

The laughter got nearer and nearer, until the spectre was so close he may as well have been sitting on him.

'Hurting yet Sammy?' it asked nonchalantly, lifting Sam's chin up so it could get a better look.

It pretended to suck in breath, to look shocked. 'Oh gee, that looks bad...but don't worry, it'll all be over soon...' it leaned close into Sam's face, until it had nearly gone through the younger Winchester's body. '...I promise.' It hissed, before moving away, laughing.

'You b-bastard.' Sam choked out, kneeling up to stand, before pain shot through him once more. He yelled in agony, clutching at his neck to stop the now steady flow of blood from coursing from his body. He pitched forwards onto his stomach, his face hitting the cold floor.

'Dean...' he whispered into the floor.

* * *

><p>Dean doused the body he was dumping water on a fire. Every part of this son of a bitch was going up in flames, no doubt about it, Dean thought as he scrambled up the dirt to the top.<p>

He quickly got out his lighter, and flicked it open.

No time for snarky, smart one-liners. Sam depended on this.

He flicked the lighter.

Nothing happened.

He tried again, desperately flicking the lighter again and again. 'No! Come on...come on!' he yelled, frustration making his body burn, he didn't have another lighter on him. This had to work.

It had to

* * *

><p>'You know...I knew I would get you, and I knew it would be easy...but what I didn't bet on was that your brother would abandon you so easily.' The ghost muttered, walking slowly towards Sam.<p>

The younger man was now pallid and shaking, curled up against the wall, congealing blood around his neck.

Sam weakly shook his head, not wanting to hear it.

'Oh well...he's a little late now, so, hey- why grumble?' the spectre stood in front of Sam, before moving his hands to see his neck.

'You've still got some way to go...I always prefer the slower deaths, don't you Sammy? It gives you a certain...satisfaction. Well, it does me, anyway...' it chuckled, before straightening up.

'Now...I'll just let you do what you have to do, and then I'll be back, okay?' it didn't wait for an answer before it walked away.

Sam shrank back further, small sobs now leaving him. He stuttered out what he knew could be his last few breaths. Where was Dean? Why had he left him?

Suddenly, the ghost was back. It looked angrier than ever before. 'You know what? I think I'm just going to get this over with now; this has gone on too long, and your devastated looks towards the door are just boring the hell outta me- say goodbye to this world Sammy, and I'll see you in the next one!' it growled.

Seconds later, before anything had happened, however, the ghost of Mr James Mosley let out a strangled yell, and a bright white light enveloped both him and Sam, who closed his eyes against the blinding glare.

Moments later, darkness had returned, and Sam was alone.

He sank down onto the floor, his cheek resting on the cold wood, his eyes fluttering closed as he felt blood, warm and thick, pooling from his open mouth and onto the floor.

* * *

><p>Dean drove like a hundred spirits where on his tail, flooring it just to get to Sam. As soon as he reached the house he didn't even wait for the engine to stop before he flung open the door and scrambled for the house.<p>

He burst in, eyes wide as he searched for his brother in the dark rooms. 'Sammy? Speak to me, please! Sam!' he yelled, feeling the tears spring to his eyes again.

Where was he?

'D-Dean...' he heard a faint whisper coming from the floor by the wall.

'S-Sammy?' he ventured, bounding over and falling on his knees in a pool of his brother's blood. It seeped into his jeans, saturating his hands and he turned his little brother over.

'Oh god...' he muttered, cradling Sam in his arms and putting his hands on his neck.

'Sam? Sammy breathe, oh god please don't be dead...' he sobbed, tears running freely down his cheeks. He touched Sam's pale cheeks; still warm, that was a good sign.

'Sam...?' he gently shook his brother, gasping with relief and Sam's eyes slowly opened.

'Hey dude, I'm going to get you outta here, you hear me?' Dean promised, holding Sam close, but being careful of his neck. He knelt up, bringing Sam up with him. He choked back a sob as Sam groaned, his forehead slipping onto Dean's shoulder. 'Sammy you gotta help me, I can't...' he couldn't finish the sentence. How could he expect Sam to help him?

_His brother was dying in his arms_.

'I'm gonna get you outta here man, I promise...' he groaned, standing up and bodily lifting Sam onto his shoulders. He didn't even wince as he moved, but he nearly slipped through the thick puddle of blood at his feet; he righted himself, making sure he kept at least one hand on Sam's neck as he kept walking.

He slowly made for the door, walking down to the Impala and quickly opening the door.

'That's it Sammy...' he muttered, before stopping and looking down; Sam had a hold on his shirt, and refusing to let go. 'It's okay Sammy, I'm gonna help you, I promise...' he gently peeled Sam's blood stained fingers away from him with his own, and raced into the front of the Impala.

They had to find the nearest hospital, and fast, otherwise-he would lose Sam.

Not on his watch.

'Hold on Sammy, just hold on...' he muttered, before turning on the ignition and turning the car around fast, roaring off into the night.

**Will Dean be able to get Sammy to a hospital in time? **

**Find out in the next chapter!**

**Thank you so much for reading, please review!**

**XxxX**


	12. Chapter 12

**Hello! I know it's been another long wait for this chapter, and I know some of you are probably getting annoyed at the time it takes me to do this- but real life really is playing a big part in this; mainly university ^^ but anywho….I hope this last chapter will make up for the wait.**

**This is the last chapter of this story, so I hope you've all enjoyed the ride!**

**Enjoy….**

The rain started hammering down the moment Dean dragged his brother outside. He kept one hand around his waist, the other tightly clenched into his throat to keep in some of the blood that was now pouring from him.

The semi-conscious Sam looked up at the grey sky, before he legs fell from under him and he lurched sideways into Dean, pain flourishing in his throat. He tried to call Dean's name, but all he could manage was a guttural snarl. The rainwater poured into his eyes, into his open mouth as he desperately kept trying to breathe.

Dean looked down, his eyes wide and scared as he saw Sam's blood run down his own hands and onto the street. 'C'mon Sammy, keep walking….' He whispered, heaving Sam up so he could get a better grip before continuing to the Impala. An ambulance would take too long- his brother needed help. Now.

He had to drop Sam onto the sidewalk for a few seconds as he fished his keys out, where Sam slumped to the ground, shaking. His blood ran in rivets down the street, washing away with the rain water, staining it pink.

As he opened the passenger door Dean took Sam under his arms and heaved, growling out a breath as Sam put his whole weight onto his chest- he couldn't even stand up.

'Come on Buddy, I got ya…. Try and keep some pressure on your neck please man…..' he muttered, moving Sam's legs so he could lie down.

Sam moaned as he put a hand on his neck; the blood flow was lessening, but that only made Dean feel worse.

He had to do something now, or Sammy wouldn't make it to any hospital.

He quickly dashed to the back of the car and opened the trunk, riffling around for something, _anything_ that might help him. His heart leapt when he spotted the small black case stuffed down by a gun- the sewing kit.

He grabbed it and ran back to the passenger side, climbing in by his brother's legs and stooping over an innate Sam. Sam was now breathing quickly, his breaths coming in short sharp bursts; Dean knew he had to act quickly.

'It's okay Sammy, you're okay bro….I'm gonna fix you…' he whispered, gently moving the hair that was plastered to Sam's forehead. His little brother looked up at him with wide, suddenly young eyes.

'Just relax-this will hurt.' He warned, before carefully taking Sam's hand off his wound. Congealed, dark blood suddenly mixed with scarlet, bubbling blood as it ran down Sam's neck, creeping into his already saturated shirt.

Acting quickly, Dean used his palm to gently rub off the blood around the actual incision, before easing a needle out of the pack- good job they had a rule of already having needles fitted with thread, for emergencies like this.

He sucked in a long breath as he took the needle expertly to Sam's neck. Sam hissed and groaned in pain as the needle sunk in, the thread going in after.

'This won't take long, then you'll be okay….. I promise….' Dean said, getting to work.

Minutes passed, and with each passing one, the blood flow lessened, until the blood had stopped, and Sam's neck had a neat line of black stitching embedded in his skin.

As the last of the blood drops fell, Dean sat back, his heart in his mouth, as he surveyed the damage.

He looked down at his brother, who had his eyes closed. The blood was starting to cake on his face and lower body, and Dean's hands were a mess. They needed to get to a motel.

'Sammy?' Dean muttered, gently leaning forwards and shaking his brother's shoulder. 'Sam…you okay?'

Sam opened bleary, red eyes, and looked across at his brother. Trust and love filled those brown eyes; he didn't even have to say anything. Dean let out a high, nervous laugh, swallowed, and lurched from the car. He fell onto his knees, trying to supress the sobs- he had almost lost Sam. Again.

He felt the rain hit his head and bounce off his jacket, and was suddenly thankful to a God he had never believed in. He grinned to himself, proud in a weird way-but mostly thankful. He pushed himself up and moved back toward Sam, who hadn't moved.

'It's okay bro- you wanna go to a hospital, or a motel?' he asked, waiting for a response.

Sam let out a moan.

'Hospital?' No sound.

'Motel then?' Another deep moan.

Dean smiled and rubbed one of Sam's legs. 'You got it bro…' he muttered, before closing the door and climbing into the driver's side.

'Try not to sleep, okay? I wanna make sure you wake up, and I can't do that while I'm driving.' He said, before moving the Impala into gear and speeding off, into the next town.

* * *

><p>Seven hours later, and Sam was fast asleep, in fresh clothes, in a new bed. Safe. Warm. Protected. He opened his eyes, feeling more awake now, more moveable. He looked up at a shadow next to him…..Dean was lying beside him, asleep.<p>

He smiled to himself and relaxed a little more. Dean was here. He was safe.

'Ean….D-eaannn….' He muttered, feeling an intense burning in his throat. So he couldn't speak properly yet. But Dean seemed to have understood.

His eyes shot open and a hand instinctively moved to hold his shoulder. 'You okay?' Dean's urgent voice sounded in his ear.

Sam nodded, relieved that he didn't need to speak.

He felt Dean relax back into the bed. There was a long, pregnant pause between them.

'…You scared me today, Sammy.' Dean whispered, his dark eyes looking to the ceiling, the pupils shining.

Sam nodded again. He felt Dean squeeze his shoulder.

'But I'm okay now, now you're fine.' He assured him, pulling him gently into a tight hug, but he let him go quickly, so as not to cause more pain.

'We better get some sleep, I only booked the room for two nights, we better hit the road after- that is if you want to? I can book more days?'

Sam looked at his brother. He didn't really want to spend any more time at Stanford, in this state, for one moment more. He had had enough. He was tired.

He shook his head, and Dean smiled.

'Alright then.' He whispered, before turning over, his back to Sam.

Sam even found this oddly comforting, so he relaxed back into his side of the bed, and allowed his eyes to flutter shut. He was safe. He was with Dean.

And that was all he needed.

**So, there you go- another completed story ^^ I really hope you've enjoyed this, I've really enjoyed writing it, even though it has been ages since I started it!**

**Please review, I would love to know what you think of this chapter and story!**

**Thank you for reading!**

**XxxxX**


End file.
